


artless morning talks

by haikuparjour



Series: Stark Sister Feels [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Minor Season 7 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikuparjour/pseuds/haikuparjour
Summary: Arya tries to to have a normal conversation with her sister, but finds herself struggling.





	artless morning talks

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping on with my wanted Stark Sister chats until I get them in the series! Still unbetad.

The morning after Sansa had found her in the crypts the second time, Arya broke her fast with her sister. They were in Sansa’s rooms with Brienne posted at the door, and hoped that it was far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the castle.

They had been eating for a few minutes when Sansa broke the silence. “Why did you come to Winterfell instead of going to Kings Landing?”

Arya put her bread down. “Are you upset that I have returned?”

“Arya, no, certainly not,” Sansa said, smiling as she reached across the table to cover one of Arya’s hands with her own. “I only meant that when I heard Bran say he thought you were going to Kings Landing I was surprised. I had believed his visions more reliable than that.”

Arya nodded. “I had thought that I was going there myself until I got to the inn. There was someone I had traveled with before, a person whose information I trust. They told me that Jon had retaken Winterfell… I had assumed it under Bolton control before then.” Arya saw Sansa’s smile tighten at the mention of their half-brother.

“Jon… of course, yes. I can understand why that would bring you back here.” Sansa withdrew her hand, and busied herself with her meal.

Arya let out an irritated sigh. Speaking with her sister had never come easy, and now she was years out of practice. She had come to Sansa’s rooms to try and build upon what had happened the night before when they had started, however slowly, to share their secrets. Yet Arya had scarcely been in Sansa’s presence for ten minutes and she already felt that it was not going well.

“It’s not like that, Sansa,” Arya started, “I hadn’t heard a word I could believe about you in ages. It wasn’t until I saw a mummers show in Braavos that I thought the rumors I heard about you marrying the Imp and the two of you killing Joffrey might be true. I didn’t know that Jon had left Castel Black until I got to the inn, or that Bran was still alive until you told me.” Arya stared imploringly into Sansa’s eyes. “Had I known any of you to be here I would have ridden back straight from the Twins.” A true smile came to Sansa’s face then, and they lapsed back into silence.

Arya wracked her mind for something else to say. She wanted to share more with her sister, but didn’t know where to start. During her travels back to Westeros Arya had never questioned that Jon would always accept her and welcome her back with open arms. She had reminded herself of that unwavering fact when planning the demise of the Frey’s and her entrance into the Red Keep. So, when she had come to Winterfell and found Sansa running the castle with Jon a thousand miles away, Arya did not know what to expect from her. Sweet, soft Sansa who, when last Arya knew her, was a proper and gentle lady, courteous to a fault, and with a head full of dreams of being in a romance like the songs of old.

Sweet Sansa, who told Arya that she had fed the Bolton bastard to his dogs. Arya had taken the admission for what she knew it to be – an invitation for trust and confidence between them when they were surrounded by a sea of strangers.

“I came across Nymeria on my way here,” Arya said, a small smile on her face.

She watched as Sansa’s confusion tuned into a look of disbelief. “Nymeria, your wolf?” she asked, a small laugh escaping her. Arya nodded. Sansa’s voice turned to a whisper, “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had told the truth that night. King Robert might have been swayed if he had known what Joffrey did to that boy. You may have been able to call back Nymeria. Would it have made a difference if they were with us in Kings Landing once it all started, or would have father still-“

“Stop, Sansa,” Arya implored her sister. She swore at herself. This was still not going as planned.  

“I’m sorry, Arya, for-“

“Enough,” Arya said firmly. In another life she remembered wanting nothing more than Sansa as she currently; on the verge of tears and apologizing for what she had done to her. Faced with it now, Arya only wanted to comfort her sister. “The past is gone and done, and winter has come. We need to remember what father said, ‘The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.’” Sansa met her gaze, and Arya could see the spirit in her eyes. “We have our pack now - you, me, Bran and Jon. We will defend this keep as Starks have defended it for thousands of years, and once this is over we will figure out what to do next.”

Sansa reached out for her hands again and gave them a squeeze. “Yes, I believe we shall.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for your kudos, comments and bookmarks on the first one, hope this one is okayish too!


End file.
